


frisk and the funny bones

by jingsino



Series: issa good time [2]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Ambiguous-Gender Frisk, Bad Jokes, Bad Puns, Family, Friendship, Gender-Neutral Frisk, Humor, Multi, Post-Pacifist Route, Self-Indulgent, mettaton is mentioned like once, romantic or platonic or whatever tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-03
Updated: 2015-11-03
Packaged: 2018-04-29 16:58:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5135453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jingsino/pseuds/jingsino
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sans thinks about Frisk and how punny they are. Neither of them are sorry about it at all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	frisk and the funny bones

**Author's Note:**

> this is the worst thing i've written i am so proud. sans curses like once and there are like fifty bad jokes ahead. you have been warned.

Frisk took after the monsters in the...strangest ways possible: Toriel's adoration of absolutely awful jokes, Asgore's fondness of gardening that extended to naming each individual flower, Alphys' not-so-secret love for anime, Papyrus' pureheartedness and perseverance—hell, even Undyne's desire to suplex the sun.

Sans, against his better judgment, found everything Frisk did to be endearing, to the point of frustration. Like, uh, eating frozen spaghetti in the snow sounds like a shitty time to have for most people, but Frisk was, well, Frisk. He remembered feeling obligated to join them, especially when they said “ _Ice_ to see you, Sans,” inedible pasta aside. Of course, the kid ended up getting sick, and spent the rest of the night crashing on the skeleton brothers' couch, moaning halfheartedly about how worth it the spaghetti was.

He snorted at the memory. Certainly a work of art.

Vividly, he recalls telling Alphys that Undyne was “a real catch.” Cue Alphys coughing and Undyne simmering in contemplation on whether or not she should force Sans to run laps.

Frisk chimed in something about Sans' “undying love for puns.” He chuckled and ruffled their hair. Then the kid looked straight at Alphys and wondered aloud if her love for Undyne was, well, _Undyne_.

His legs were somehow still sore from all those laps.

It wasn't _his_ fault that Frisk knew a wise mentor when they saw one. Toriel came a close second, though, which didn't come as a surprise. She was quite pleased about it too, because whether it was in family, school, or jokes, Frisk never failed to deliver.

And _boy_ , did they deliver it right to the door.

He affectionately remembers a particularly cold evening. Ebott glowed with hearths and fires and magic, reflecting off the layers of snow and ice across the road. The moon itself seemed to shiver across the sky, the sheer blanket of clouds offering little protecting against the weather.

Fortunately, Frisk had almost silently begged for their friends and family to be together, “for the holidays,” they whispered heartbreakingly. And no one could deny that unfairly precious little face, god _damn_ it, in Undyne's own words. So when Toriel stood outside the door to greet their guests and two soft knocks sounded in the frigid air, everyone suddenly held their breath in anticipation, faces contorted in expressions of either agony or amusement.

“Who's there?” Toriel replied, a tinge of excitement in her otherwise smooth voice. 

“Ach.” Sans could still hear the unrestrained smile in their voice.

“Ach-who?” Could still hear the clicks of Papyrus' jaw as he prepared to scream for justice.

The door swung all the way open, and suddenly Frisk was leading their mother back inside. “Mom! You didn't tell me you were sick!”

Giggles bubbled from within Toriel, which soon escalated into the gasping, almost bleating laughter she always fell into after she heard a joke she loved, which was all bad jokes because everyone knew her sense of humor was becoming even more of a wreck ever since she discovered she could find more on the hell known as the internet. Papyrus charged closely behind, demanding an apology for the emotional distress he was going through.

“Can't _stomach_ knock knock jokes, Papyrus?” he couldn't help but start. “Or is your humor just that _bone dry_?”

“SANS IF YOU PROCEED I WILL--”

“--have a _bone_ to pick with me?”

Ah yes, his favorite people in the world.

He wasn't even going to start on the flower puns. Actually, wait, they were too good to miss out on. He would say they were to die for, but flowers weren't usually his thing. The only time they were was when Frisk was giving them, because then they would grin and he would notice the little gap between their front teeth as they said, “I hope _thistle_ make your day!” Sometimes, Asgore was with them when they did this, and the face he made said it all.

Sans shook his head. Kid was _killing_ him.

Thing was, Sans got the feeling that Frisk went out of their way to make little jokes just for him. He felt just a bit like Mettaton, stroking his own ego, for saying so, but he knew it was true to some degree by the way Frisk searched for Sans' eyes after cracking something dreadfully delightful, grin widening just a degree when he noticed the skeleton's lips twitching.

In fact, they were doing it right now.

Papyrus was fuming, although that might have just been the pasta finally cooking behind him. He was smiling though, as he always was, because he could never, _ever_ bear being mad at Frisk.

“IT WOULD BREAK MY HEART!” he had cried, and Sans decided to spare him just this once.

“If I had a penny for every joke I made,” Frisk started mysteriously, then stopped as they picked something up that caught their interest.

Sans leaned forward. Papyrus gasped.

Frisk held up a box of penne pasta with dead serious eyes.

Payrus yelled. Sans guffawed.

“You really tickled my funny bone there, kid,” he admitted later as he pulled them into a hug, smelling pasta and sauce all over their person.

Frisk's laughter was muffled by his jacket, but it still warmed him to the bone.

 


End file.
